Only For You
by Kifujin no STRAWBERRY
Summary: Tom Riddle. Enigmatic...silent, frigid and cold. Tom Riddle. Passionate...dark and so warm. Who is he? WHO IS TOM RIDDLE? Now to peel off the mask...a mask that only she wants to remove. Who are you? A Tom x OC fanfic dedicated to Val!
1. C Mc : A Fateful Train Ride

**AN - October 16th, 2005:** Go Post-Potter story, whoo-hooo! I've been dying to write something other than Raine's story, anyways. One of my bestest-est-est online friend ( who totally rawks, mind you ) gave me inspiration because...she. Is. The. BEST. **FRIEND** / **TOM RIDDLE / FRIEND / VOLDEMORT / FRIEND / ROLEPLAYER / FRIEND / HYPER SUPER PARTY FUNTIME WHEE PERSON FRIEND**. EVER. OMG. I have never ever met such a talented roleplayer / said other things before - here's to - what, nearly a year? - of roleplaying, friendly-ness, random glomps and maniacal laughter, and PURE LOVE. ( _hugs teh Val-mun_! ) I love you. ( _sniff_ ) But...er, yeah, we need to get back to the original intent of this story! This entire fanfiction is dedicated to teh Val-mun. It is meant to be read. You don't have to review, though...if you want to, go right ahead! Laugh at my insanity! . Only for Val. I LOVE YOU VAL!

**Disclaimer of Dh00m**: I don't own Harry Potter or Tom Riddle or anyone else! All I own is teh created character that I have as well as her history and any invented spells my twisted mind can come up with. HAH! Take that, lawyers! Do not wave those expensive leather briefcases and clicky blue and black pens at me! MWAHAHAHAHAHAH! Oh chyeah. The last name McCallion belongs to my good friend Miemie. Sorry for stealing your last name, Mie! I really needed a good last name and Rogers just didn't cut it...gawd, my last name sucks. ( _It's not even catchy, either! And it doesn't rhyme with anything like yours does! Besides...Dodgers. And...Folgers? The best...part of waking up...is Rogers in your cup! sings to the old coffee commercial jingle XD _)

**Only For You**

**By**: Kifujin no STRAWBERRY

_Chapter One_

_C. Mc : A Fateful Train Ride_

* * *

The world as mortals everywhere has an awful funny way of working.

Then again, no one can really say anything to that when they know that even _they_ have an awful funny way of working. Each and every person has an awfully funny and unique way of working among this world - whether good, evil, or in between the lines, walking on the thin plane between insanity and levelheadedness. But aside the point that everything is _awfully funny_ about this _awfully funny_ world, even she could suppose that once that strange uniquity was stripped away from the world to reveal it's inner workings, there is really nothing funny about it at all. It was a continuous cycle of death, birth, and even rebirth at some points - and as well as the cycles of nature, a continuous circle of love, hate, good, and evil.

It was either that or she was feeling exceptionally thoughtful at the moment.

Maybe she should have waited a little longer to come to the Station? There hadn't really been a choice in the matter compared to what her parents had to say - they were always so busy that she had just said goodbye to them and that whenever they decided to come say goodbye to her before she left for the school then they were free to do so. Really, she wouldn't have cared whether or _not_ they came to say goodbye. She would have rather just gone off to Hogwarts by herself. They wouldn't have realized it until a couple days later, she was sure of that, and even then, they'd brush it off as a simple case of 'lateness' for the school train and sent her a letter telling her that they'd see her over winter vacation. Pshaw. Like she was going home over winter vacation.

The sun was all ready peeking over the top of the tallest buildings - pretty soon, the train would be arriving. She'd gotten here around 10:30 and she supposed it was around 10:40 since most of the students were now arriving - ah, she even recognized some of them! There was Rosier and Antonin, oh, and even Avery had come early today. She had almost been expecting him to miss the train and have to be transported there by broom like he had to be last year. He'd been teased much about it for a while until people had seen past that to the Quidditch season that had been coming up. Most of the students gathered there were from the other Houses, though...where were all the others of _her_ House? She dearly hoped that they would make it in time, though with the exact punctuality that each and every one of them had displayed over the past six years that she had known them, she was pretty sure that they would make it.

Hrm. 10:45. A familar whistling sound filled her ears - yes, the train was here. Excellent. Powerful thudding and chugging filled the area with noise, and quite a few of the others stopped to watch as the Hogwarts Express arrived. A gleaming scarlet steam engine blowing powerful gusts of smoke from it's top that filled the air; wheels that began to steady to a halt as the brakes were put on by the conductor; and soon enough it stood shining in the sunlight and in the station itself. She'd always loved to watch the train pull into the station - a sort of apprehension always filled her when it pulled in - excitement...she was finally going back to a place that she'd called **home** ever since she had set foot in the place. It was almost like going back to her own 'home' was just a past time event until she could come back here. She could honestly say that this was true...

She supposed she should grab a compartment to save until _they _( meaning the specific ones that she usually waited for on the train ) got into the station - besides, if not now, they would all be gone, since all of the other students would busy themselves with saving compartments for their friends and whatnot. The doors slowly opened and she rose from her spot on the bench, taking quiet steps over to where it was situated and raising herself and the rather heavy black trunk she pulled after herself inside. Nothing was ever going to change in this train, was it? Not really. The place was still fantastically clean yet had an almost homely air to it. The girl shrugged, silently laughing at her own thoughts, and then immediately headed for the back of the train. Last compartment on the left. Farthest side pushed to the window. Her usual spot. _They_ certainly knew that by now.

10:50. Everyone was on the train now, and she could hear the chattered excitment building up in the separate parts of the train all ready, and the thudding footsteps as people squabbled and squirmed for places on the train. An amused smile appeared on her face. Oh, how exciting the entire prospect of it all was! Soon enough they'd all be back at Hogwarts and soon enough she'd be able to see everyone again. Certainly the time away from one another had changed one's appearance and opinion of another. Oh well, she'd just have to wait until the others arrived in the compartments saved for her House, and then maybe everyone would speak to each other again. But just as she was about to turn away from it all, to look out the window for _them,_ a quiet yet unobtrusive male voice spoke.

"Excuse me, miss. Would you mind if I took this compartment along with you? All of the others are full."

And she found herself turning, to look up at the one who had spoke. A tall boy, all ready dressed in the full Hogwarts male uniform ( hmm, at least someone had bothered to dress in uniform before they had gotten on the train; so had she ), who wore the Slytherin Prefect crest on the left of his robes. Pale with dark eyes and a small, friendly smile curving over his pale lips. Streaks of dark hair fell against his forehead and temples, straight and evenly cut. Oh? She'd never met this boy before. Maybe he was a 7th Year? She didn't know about that; he didn't look tall enough to be a 7th Year, and most of the 7th Years who she had seen so far had grown at least 4 or 5 inches over the summer. One of his eyebrows rose slightly, and she nodded at him, before turning to look back out the window.

"Thank you."

He seated himself beside her, adjusting his robes and settling his trunk below the seat.

"You look familar," He said after a moment, and she turned to look back up at him once again. Even seated he had a good six inches over her. "Are you in the Slytherin House with me? I daresay sometimes my memory just collapses on me..." He offered a soft laugh.

"Yes, I am in Slytherin." And finally, she spoke after a moment of just gazing at him calmly. "Most people don't know me too well, though...I guess I'm too quiet..."

"Oh?" He fixated her with a rather warm smile. "Hmm. Let's see...where have I seen you before...ah, your the one who is always with Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy, hmm?"

"Yep, that's me."

"Ah, so that is where I have seen you!" The boy nodded and then ran a hand through his hair. "By the way...I'm Tom. Tom Riddle. May I have the pleasure of your name?"

"Christine McCallion."

"You sound like your from a very affluent and distinguished family, _Christine_." A soft intone on her name. Each word articulated perfectly. Like he was afraid of being imperfect? She didn't know.

"You could say that." She said rather dryly. **Affluent** and **distinguished.** Bah to them both, but it was true and fairly annoying. "Not really, though."

"Ah...hmm, I see." A nod given, and then he looked at her very directly. "Would you mind watching my trunk for a moment, Christine? Unfortunately, our conversation must be cut short before it can even begin - it is a Prefect's job to control order within this train and I fear that this is the job that I must take at this time."

"All right. I'll watch it until you come back."

"Thank you."

Another smile, and he rose to his full height at his feet, and stepped out of the compartment, sliding the door shut behind him. It seemed he had only been there two minutes before he had to leave again. Hrmph. Why should she care at the moment? She had no business wondering about him for the moment, anyways...best leave it to later on. 10:55. Minutes were beginning to pass quite quickly now. She didn't mind the change, as long as it didn't bother her or annoy or irrita-what the...? Indeed. The compartment door had been thrown open so quickly it rattled the window panes and set a faint tremor. But that was not what surprised her. All of a sudden, someone had thrown themself so quickly at her that she had no time to react and found herself fairly squashed up against the side of the compartment.

"Chriss-yyyy!"

Ah, now she recognized the voice. Seated half on the seat, half on her legs, was a beautiful, blond-haired girl. Blue eyes twinkled and danced mischeviously, and the blond-haired girl hugged her, apparently as hard as she could, causing her to cough and wince, attempting to wriggle out from underneath this girl. It was..._Narcissa Black?_ For a second she had wondered who this pretty girl was, this girl who was squishing her with all of her dead weight, who smiled a bright white smile down at her, and then clambored off of her and onto the nearest seat. Narcissa. Her...best friend, ever since they had entered the Slytherin House as 1st Years together. She didn't know what had attracted Narcissa - or Cissy, as most of the House called her - to her...it was a secret to her.

"Oh...hey, Cissy." Christine even managed to give her a smile. A change.

"Ohhhh...how have you been!" They hadn't seen each other all summer. She supposed she should be _riveted_ to see Narcissa, shouldn't she? " Oh, Lucius will be in here in a moment, he had to go check in with Avery and Rosier and jinx some little 4th Year who almost set his robes on fire..."

"Um. Fine, and that is very nice." An easy way to answer all three of Narcissa's questions / statements at the same time. "What about you?"

"I've been great! Lucius and I went to _Paris_ with the Malfoys - oh, can you believe it, Paris? It's such a wonderful place, but I could do without the rudeness of the drivers...the weather was beautiful, and Lucius took me out on a gondola...it was so romantic..." Narcissa heaved a dreamy sigh and then adjusted herself. "I even learned to speak a little bit of french. I'm not too good at it, though. The people always giggled at my accent."

"Paris. Cool. Never been there before...only place I've ever been is here."

"I know, I know...maybe next summer, or even over Winter Break, we can all go, huh?" Narcissa grinned at her, and Christine only offered up a smile.

"If the parental figures will allow it. Not so sure they will, though."

And...once again, the compartment door slid open, though a lot more quietly this time. In stepped a regally handsome pale boy who she recognized only by the beautiful gray eyes and long, slicked back blond hair that touched the collar of his robes. Lucius Malfoy, this year's Quidditch Team Captain, it seemed, by the silver badge emblazoned with Slytherin's crest and a large C imprinted on the metal, and also...Narcissa's betrothed and soon to be ( once they both got out of school and were of age, of course ) husband. It seemed ever since the two of them had met they had fallen in love with one another at a spectacularly fast rate. It had made her laugh when she had caught both of them liplocking in Hogsmeade over a butterbeer that had clearly been forgotten.

Lucius was a man of few words - he only seated himself beside Narcissa ( who immediately hugged him; he gave her the one-armed, casual hug and a soft kiss on the temple ) and then sent her a rueful smile. Lucius was one of the people, besides Narcissa, who knew her the most in this world. He knew all of her secrets and her dreams...things that she had shared only with the two sitting beside her. This must have been the reason that the two were the only ones that were seen with her at all; they knew so much about her that they had seemed to just be drawn in by her personality? Huh. She doubted she had a personality...she had been told so many times that the House classified her as 'the silent one' and thought her to be strange. Oh well.

"Hello, Christine." No nicknames from Lucius, except one 'Anti-Christ' he had called her in 5th Year.

"Hey, Lucius. I hear you and Narcissa snogged in Paris?" His cheeks reddened, and a small smile curved over her lips. Narcissa went pink in the cheeks and giggled.

"Aye."

"How sweet and romantic and darling - such a wonderful thing for betrothed who will probably spawn 15 children." Christine could not help but roll her eyes at him.

"Stop being sarcastic." Lucius only offered a swat with his wand. He seemed to have it in hand from the time he came into the compartment.

"Ah, which reminds me. What jinx did you use this time?"

"Jelly Legs Jinx. It was rather funny, seeing the little bugger wobble around and crash into things." His mouth curved up into an evil smirk. "Flew nearly a foot in the air when he fell over a seat, that one did."

"Hmmph." She giggled lightly, and then blinked slightly as the train began to move. "Seems like you got here just in time before we left. Wonder if Avery made it this time?"

"He did. His mum made him go in extra early so she wouldn't have to fly him to the school again." Narcissa interjected, looking out the window and then around the compartment. Her blue eyes focused on the trunk pushed beneath the seat. "Hey...Chrissy, who else is sitting in here? Bella?"

"No. I haven't seen Bellatrix in a while, actually...I would have thought she would have come in and reserved her own seat before they were all taken. This boy Tom Riddle - a Prefect from our House - is sitting here." Christine shook her head and then looked to Narcissa, who was gazing at her with such curiosity. "What?"

"You usually don't let just _anyone_ sit in _this_ compartment, Chrissy." The blond-headed girl reminded her, and she heaved a sigh, resting her head in hand.

"He said there was no other place to sit. So I let him in here. Is there a **problem** with that?"

"No, of course not. I was just wondering, silly."

And as if he **knew** they had been talking about him, the compartment door that so loved to slide open and admit more and more people into the place slid open once again and in stepped Tom himself. He seemed surprised to see two other people in there, but then fixated his dark eyes on the two newcomers and gave a small, polite smile.

"Old friends _reuniting_. Such a lovely sight indeed." Tom said finally, and then seated himself beside her. She felt herself slightly rise an inch or so as his weight pressed down on the seat. "Please, by all means, continue."

"Um." Narcissa suddenly giggled. "Oh, your the new Prefect from our Year! Tom Riddle, right?"

"It comes as a shock that one so lovely would know me. Yes, I am him." Each word, once again articulate and carefully spoken. Narcissa went a little pink, and Lucius' eyes narrowed on Tom. One of his arms slid around Narcissa's shoulders, and he pulled her closer to him. Tom offered a soft chuckle. "Please do not be alarmed. I have no intention of stealing your girlfriend away from you."

"Hrm." Was the only thing Lucius murmured at him, and his arm tightened even more so around her blond friend. He shifted his eyes away from Tom. "So, Christine. What did you do over the summer?"

"Waited until I could come back here. I'm no pureblood with lots of money...you know." Lucius reddened just a little in the face. "Besides. There was nothing to do but wait. The parents were at the Ministry - yes, even my mother, seeing as she is now the 'official muggle captain' or whatever - all summer."

"Your parents work at the Ministry?" Tom's voice was curious and soft. "It must be hard on you. I'm sure they are very busy, if they have no time to spend with their lovely daughter."

"Try telling that to them." Christine leaned her head against the window and peered outside. Everything appeared a blur - splashes of blue in between, though mostly green.

"There _will_ come a time when they yearn for your attention. It will be your choice whether you give it to them or not. I wonder, what will you choose?" A quill scratched against the pages of a diary held between Tom's hands as he spoke. "Drive the needle of vengeance into their hearts for loving their work more then you? Or forgive them for their lack of thought on your part? Forgive them for their detachment?"

Christine could only look at him as he spoke. Soft intones, a soft voice, and his sultry eyes darted up from the page, resting on hers, only for a moment, before he offered a smile towards her. Such strange words from someone she barely knew, even know it seemed that they had been together for six years. She pondered what he had said - it left a strange, mysterious feeling in the air. Something that she had not even bothered to notice...

"Yearn, for my attention? Heh. That will never happen," She only offered a laugh and then tilted her head backwards to rest against the seat. "They address me with 'Christine, clean your room!' or any other stupid complaints. Tch. It doesn't matter, anyways. It gets them out of my hair."

Lucius let out a sigh and then shook his head, while Narcissa looked curiously up at him. One of his hands had wound it's way lazily up through her silky blond hair, and she smiled so faintly, pulled up against him, her legs tucked beneath her. Christine only looked back out the window. The scenes outside seemed to change so much as she watched them - it lightened, darkened, and swarmed with colors as they passed different landscapes. She didn't know where they were exactly, but she knew that the entire trip was spent talking of Quidditch, teachers, classes, and the general well-being of Hogwarts himself. So far, she knew that she had all ready taken the position of Seeker; she'd been the Seeker for the Slytherin Team for the last few years ever since the last one - Gionaneg, she'd thought his name was - had gotten into a fatal injury and could not play again. No one _knew_ what had happened to him...it was still a mystery even to her.

The train began to slow and the lights flickered slightly, and over the loudspeaker - "Students, please sit back in your chairs and make sure all of your luggage is tucked securely into all of their proper places. We will be arriving at Hogwarts Station in a few moments." - the conductor spoke those words, and in unison students scrambled for footholds as the train began to slow down - fast. Tom glanced up at the flickering lights, the quill that hovered over the parchment pages of his journal pausing in it's scratching, and Christine only returned her gaze to Lucius and the other occupants of the compartment. Narcissa untucked her legs and straightened herself out as the train slowed, while Lucius just moved his leg slightly to soften the momentum that threatened to carry them both off of the seat. It was time to leave all ready? She hadn't thought that the time would go by so fast...

"Well...I am supposing that I will see you later...in the _common room_." Tom spoke to them, and in unison, they all nodded at him. He offered that small, composed smile and then stepped out of the compartment, pulling his trunk behind him.

"Chrissy...that guy is **really** creepy." Narcissa finally blurted out, rising to her feet and standing on her toes to grab her trunk from the top shelf. Lucius rose after her, pulling it down, along with his. "Oh, thank you, Lucius..."

"It's not my fault." Christine shrugged and pulled her trunk out from beneath her. She had stored it under there so she didn't have to reach...besides, she probably would have had to have Lucius grab it for her, anyways.

"Come on, let's go. The carriages will be all taken with people if we don't hurry up." Lucius said quietly.

Together and in sync, the three Slytherin students nearly fled from the flickering light that emitted in wavering beams from the train. Steps took them to the carriages that stood silent and still, as usual...carriages took them to a familar sight that all so adored.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_, a place for learning...a place for friends...a place that Christine so dearly called her **home.**

* * *

**AN**: Wow. That's a really long chapter. . Hehe! Maybe it's all the spaces I put in between or something...but nevermind that, ne? It's still a long chapter. How'd ya like it? Fantastic? Good? Pretty good? Needs work? You suck? o.o Um. Your a horrible author and you should burn in hell? I dunno about the way that you think, but I think that chapter right there was pretty good! Took up a good 25 KB on my hard drive ( not really sure whether or not that's a lot of space up your alley considering that I'm a really crappy fanfic writer, but I'm pathetic so hey, leave me alone ), with all the Raine stuff on it and all. I've been dying to start this story for Valentine anyways.

OMFGULIEKRAWKVALLOLOLOOOOOLLOLAMORFOLILIEKGUYS! ( _newb moment _) Okay, all better now! I don't know when the next chapter might be coming out, but if ya like the story, good for you! Maybe I'll get a favorite or something. **I will always 3 teh Tom Riddle and teh wonderful Valentine-mun anyways**. Anyways...until next time, ne? AISHITERU, MINNA-SAN / VAL-SAN!


	2. T M R : Inside a Dark Mind

**AN - October 25th, 2005**: It's a couple days later and I'm all ready developing out the next chapter! Oh gawd. I need something to do besides writing this story for Val, but I think the first chapter opening was a really good start to it and all, so yeah. . Tom is cool, anyways. WHOOGOTOMZOMG! ( _jumps around and then lands on edge of randomly placed couch; eye gleam _) Okay, here's the deal - this and the chapter before it are introductory chapters to the characters themselves and how they first entered Hogwarts! After this continues the story from both character's perspectives. Just to clear some things up!

_Eleriel_: Let's just ignore that little timeline thing. o.o; I'm not really sure what timeline HP runs on, 'cept that it's about the 90's and Tom went to Hogwarts like...50 years ago...we can ignore that little fact, since it is fan fiction, after all! Nitpicky. XD

_404_: Thank you! Eh, some of the words aren't exactly mine, because I spiced it up with Val-e-ness ( she plays my Tom . ) but I figure I did a pretty good job with the filler speech. So heyyyy. Thanks for the review!

_Lainia26_: Thanks for the review! Er...erm...sorry that he's a little OOC? Lol, I'm not too good at him...sorry.

_Poisonous Reality_: I love you too. xD Thanks a lot! My accurate descriptions will destroy the world as we know it. People always complain about that, though... 'You describe too much! Get on with the story!'. Thank god someone likes theeeeeeeeem...

**Only For You**

**By**: Kifujin no STRAWBERRY

_Chapter Two_

_T. M. R : Inside a Dark Mind_

* * *

Was this dark-haired boy the cruel person that people had made him out to be? 

One that lived up to the rumors that had been spread so diligently about him?

Certainly **not** Tom Riddle. Not he. No, Tom Riddle was the perfect role model - the emblem of power and peace within Slytherin's walls; excelling in all of his classes with apparent ease that shocked the rest of the school - a youth with a charming smile, dark soulful eyes, and such guiding words. Could those words have you turned on your best friend in but a moment of time and by his side, ready to risk you life? Perhaps they could. Tom Riddle was a fountain of untapped potential just waiting to be discovered by the right sort of people who could mold his young, passionate personality into something more.

But he had different plans in mind. He did not want to be controlled; oh no, it was rather the opposite of what some thought to be doing to him - he wanted to be the controller. He wanted to be the dominant one at all times, never losing and most of all never being controlled by anyone. Tom Riddle wanted to _lead_ the world into a new generation that he would control...that would only yield to his guiding hands. This boy had it all planned out, this plan for world conquest...and even more in store for the residents of the Wizarding World, more that they would most certainly not expect out of such a charming, quiet boy.

The one they called by that despicable muggle name was silent, as usual - waiting patiently, unsmiling, eyes only focused on the railroad tracks that would bring with it a great clattering noise and one of the things that he could consider as the 'happiest' sights of his life - the Hogwarts Express, the train that would bring him away from the dreadful place in London and back to Hogwarts, a place he had called his home ever since he had entered it. A school for witchcraft and wizardry - a school where he showed himself and mustered his way to the front of the line to reach for his own personal goals. The thought was almost cliche in his mind...though one could not entirely say with a safety that was his or her own that he was entirely _all there._

Ah yes, and now he could hear the whistle of the engine as it thundered down the tracks toward Platform Nine and Three Quarters ( quite a stupid name for a station in his opinion; but everything in the Wizarding world could be written off as odd or stupid these days ) and see the smoke starting to billow up over the buildings that surrounded the station. It wouldn't take long for it to get here, and he supposed that it would take a good ten minutes for the rest of the students to clambor and settle themselves in the Express - a good ten minutes of his time that he would rather much be spending doing something constructive and actually _worth_ his time. But it didn't matter now; as long as he was going back to Hogwarts he would be fine with waiting a measly ten minutes or so.

"Mum, stop, your embarassing me!" A voice somewhere behind him. Head was inclined, ever so slightly, and one dark eye drifted over his shoulder. A little boy...brown-haired and brown-eyed, looking insistantly up at his mother, who was holding onto him as if she would never let go of him again. "It's only going to be for a little while and I promise I'll write you every week!"

"Oh, my little boy is finally going to Hogwarts," The woman who held onto the child so readily said tearfully, and hugged the boy tightly. The child echoed a groan and then struggled in his mother's arms. "You behave now, you hear me, young man? Don't give any of your teachers any trouble - like the last time you got a hold of your Father's wand and engorged a cat fifty times it's regular size! The hairballs were the size of...of...soccer balls! _No_ mischief!"

"Yes, Mum." The child said obediantly. "Now let me go."

"Mark my words, Adrian, if I hear any news that you've been causing trouble you'll be punished--"

"YES MUM."

"Goodbye, dear. Have a nice time at school."

The child hurried past him, and he caught a glimpse of the look of irritation on his face. He was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, _'God, that woman is too overprotective and pushy!'_ - either that or he was frankly hallucinating. The child was lucky that he had his mother to protect him so. He himself - he had never felt that 'protective' bond that they called love. He had no desire to feel that way about anyone who was in the remainder of his family, either...the family he'd exterminate, thus eliminating the entire past and Tom Riddle himself. He'd become something in the **other** catagory? He didn't know...where ever his interest took him, he would go. He would not let it drift away so easily.

Speaking of which, the train had pulled into the station and was now admitting passengers to it's compartments at a fantastically fast rate. He had stood there for too long this time; waited for that woman and her child to finish their conversation, a conversation he could have done without and time lost that he could have used to do something valuable in the meantime. Hrm. Well then, he supposed he could do with sitting in the back of the train this time, though he would have rather preferred the front. It was easier to get out of the train that way, but thanks to his own dawdling, that was not going to be possible today. The one known as Tom Riddle gave a soft sigh, ran a hand through his hair, and then pulled the trunk after him - up into the train, heading toward the back.

He supposed the first thing that he saw was a small, scared looking little girl. A First Year student, he believed - her size told him everything. She was fumbling with the clasp to her trunk and trying to hold a cat in the crook of her arm. There was a soft creaking sound, and the lock snapped, sending all of her things all over the floor - and her face turned red. He wasted no time in stooping to pick up the few things that rolled and rested at his feet; potions ingredients and quills, a bundle of parchment and other things that he was sure she would need. He stepped forward, letting a small smile creep across his lips, and then handed the discarded items to her. She blushed and then offered a tiny little smile, though he had all ready pulled out his wand and repared the lock to her trunk with ease.

"Th...thank you." She stammered up at him as he tilted her trunk back up and snapped the lock in place.

"Your welcome." He said quietly, and then fixated her with a look and a warm smile. Entirely fake, but it worked. Her eyes brightened. "You have a big day ahead of you. Good luck."

Then he was gone now, strolling down the aisle and searching for a place to sit, leaving the child back to sat herself with a newly made friend and chat about things he had absolutely no care in the world for. Hrm, it looked like everyone had gotten on the train early - nearly _every_ seat that he saw was taken by others, and if they weren't taken, they were reserved by other people and saved by their friends. That was, he supposed, the way that things worked on the train and in the school network - save the best for the ones that you like and brush off those who are supposedly unimportant. It didn't matter to him at the moment, anyways - he had spotted a compartment that didn't look even half occupied. He hastened toward it; no one knew when someone could appear and take that spot that he had staked out as his.

He reached for the handle and then quickly pushed the door open, though quietly, as to not disturb it's occupant. Dark eyes drew and focused around the small room, finally resting on the only one who seemed to have taken the will to occupy it. A smaller girl, though not likely a 5th Year - no, she looked more of the 6th Year type, wearing her robes all ready and gazing quite fixedly out the window. Dark-haired and **very** pale. He had no perception of what color her eyes were, though it didn't matter at the moment. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Excuse me miss," A slight pause. "Would you mind if I took this compartment along with you? All the others are full."

She turned. He half-expected it to be a Gryffindor student waiting to jeer at him and tell him to go away, but it was not the Gryffindor crest on the front of her robes. A Slytherin crest...? And he did not know this young lady? He focused on her face - and nearly froze at the sight. Sharp gray eyes were surveying him as if he was some potential form of enemy - though he didn't care how she was looking at him, really - it was just the color of her eyes that fairly surprised him. It was a shifting, almost metallic gray...changing hue as she gazed at him, even as he stood there in the doorway and waited for her answer. He let an eyebrow arch before she avoided his gaze and then nodded her head slightly, a very slight movement.

"Thank you."

And he seated himself, shoving his trunk below the seat with no difficulty at all. There were no metal bars running from the front to back, he was sure. But what was bothering him so much about this insignificant girl? Perhaps it was the simple fact that he did not even know her _name._ He knew most of the others in Slytherin House; he was sure of it, he had taken evident care to make sure that they had learned his name as it was and that he had learned their names as they would stay. He had seen her somewhere, though...to think back to last year, roaming the halls and looking about for his lost book...a flash of a blond-haired boy...ah, yes, was that who she was?

"You look familar," He stated after a few pressured moments of silence between the two of them. _Let's pretend that we did not notice the mark of Slytherin on her chest. That will start some sort of conversation and will lead me to finding who she is._ "Are you in the Slytherin House with me? I daresay sometimes my memory just collapses on me..."

She stared at him. He felt his outer mask start to falter before she spoke.

"Yes, I am in Slytherin. Most people don't know me too well, though...I guess I'm too quiet..."

"Oh?" He let that warm smile he had given to the 1st Year girl drift onto his lips. "Hmm. Let's see...where have I seen you before...ah, your the one who is always with Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy, hmm?"

"Yep, that's me." Very blunt.

"Ah, so that is where I've seen you!" Yes indeed that was where he had seen her. And he'd just remembered it as well...hrm, perhaps his memory was a bit musty over the summer. Offhandedly, he added, "By the way...I'm Tom. Tom Riddle. May I have the pleasure of your name?"

"Christine McCallion." She was not the type to speak very much, he could tell that - but her name sounded distinctly familar for a moment or so... He opened his mouth to speak, adding a slight tone to her name as he did.

"You sound like your from a very affluent and distinguished family, Christine."

"You could say that." A difference in the way she spoke. Almost like there was some sort of hidden humor behind it all. "Not really, though."

"Ahh, I see." He nodded at her, and then glanced out the doorway. A muffled sound of what seemed like a fight through the doorway; a yell of '_You bloody traitor!'_, and he looked toward the one they called Christine. She was still gazing at him calmly. "Would you mind watching my trunk for a moment, Christine? Unfortunately, our conversation must be cut short before it can even begin - it is a Prefect's job to control order within this train and I fear that this is the job that I must take at this time."

"All right. I'll watch it until you come back."

"Thank you."

He gave her another smile and then stepped out of the compartment quickly. Yes, it was as he had predicted - two boys were rolling around on the ground, kicking and punching the living daylights out of one another in another section of the train. It didn't take a second thought, really; he'd pulled out his wand, and with a quick flick, both boys were hoisted into the air by an invisible set of hands. They still struggled vainly, growling at one another like a pair of vicious dogs pulled away from each other by their owners. Tom Riddle straightened himself to his full height ( which was rather tall, mind you ) and then stared at them both, letting a sigh pass through his lips.

"Would either of you be so very kind as to explaining why you were trying to break every single bone in the other's body?" He finally asked, and the boys turned their faces toward him. One of them was a Slytherin...the other was a Gryffindor. "Your a disgrace to our House, Slytherin. I had no idea that some of us would stoop so low as to exchange blows by physical means instead of walking away from those who are weaker."

The boy hung his head in shame, while the Gryffindor fixated him with a feral look.

"'Ey, you!" He said rudely. "Mind yer own business! This ain't your concern, ya slimy git!"

"Seeing as I am the Slytherin House's Prefect, I find it deeply within my interest that someone of my House is involved with a Gryffindor student," Tom gazed at the other, his eyes narrowing even more at the upstart. "When I find it also interesting to know that Gryffindor and Slytherin have such a...rough relationship with one another. Now. If your going to glare and shout, by all means, continue your tirades. I'll leave you hanging there for the rest of the train ride and let my House mate go."

"W...What! That's not fair!"

"Then I suggest you start talking. Tell me what was going on here and the cause for such an idiotic fight."

The Gryffindor boy made an odd sputtering sound and then wriggled in the grip of the invisible hand that held him so readily in the air, kicking and struggling. The Slytherin one looked him up and down warily, before opening his mouth to speak.

"That idiot attacked me for no reason at **all.**" He said disdainfully. Hrm. He remotely recognized this boy - Fernando, the full-blooded 3rd Year child of two higher level Ministry representatives. A pampered prince like this boy, in a fight? How odd. "And we ended up _fighting._"

"That ain't true!" The other boy interjected, looking outraged. "He provoked me, he did!"

"I did not. You came at me swinging." Fernando replied crossly. "And attacked me."

"YOU PROVOKED ME, YOU GIT!"

"I did not."

"Did too!"

"Most certainly not."

"You DID TOO!"

"I did not."

"Yes you did!"

"No I didn't."

"YES!"

"No."

"YES YES YES YES YES!"

"No."

"YES YOU DID!"

"NO I DIDN'T!"

"Silence!" Tom said loudly, shutting them both up. "I see there is a dispute, but it will be settled NOW. You, Gryffindor boy," he raised his right hand and the boy dropped to the ground, "You will keep your distance from this other, or I assure you there will be dire consequences. 50 points will be taken from Gryffindor the next time I see you near him. Is that understood?"

"That ain't fair and you know it!" The boy balked and then got to his feet, glaring at him. "Yer goin' easy on that prat right there because he's from your House!"

"No, I'd rather think that I'm punishing the one who started the fight in the first place."

"You...you slithery git!"

"10 points from Gryffindor. Good bye."

"GRAGH!" The boy turned and stormed off down the corrider, slamming the door behind him so hard that the windows rattled in their panes and students looked up from their compartments to see what was going on. Tom didn't bother watching him leave. It would have been a waste of his precious time.

"And you," He turned toward Fernando. He was staring sulkily at him. "If this happens again, you can consider yourself under that very rule, regardless of whether or not you are in my House. I will not tolerate any fighting for the behalf of something as idiotic as that. You are a _SLYTHERIN_. You have more pride in your House than that, _don't_ you? I advise you **show** it."

Fernando opened his mouth to speak again, though closed it and then shook his head yes, turning on the heel of his foot and then walking away stiffly. _I see that he has finally seen things from my own perspective,_ Tom thought with a wry smile twisting the corners of his lips up. _Then again, I would not know that unless I used Legilimency against this foolish boy Fernando. Whether or not his thoughts are focused on the event at hand or on me depends on who he is, does it not?_ And a laugh escaped him at his own thoughts, before he turned, to head back to the compartment that he had left his things in. That girl whom he had addressed before coming to deal with this, Christine McCallion, was watching them, so he supposed that they would be all right by the time he got back there.

A quick pace and a single sweep of the entire area proved him right. His trunk was still safely under the seat, where he had left it, though she was now...conversing? With **whom?** Nothing but a girl and a boy, sitting next to each other, both blond, though the features were different of either of their faces, so he deducted that the two were not brother and sister. Friends of hers, it seemed. A small, polite smile was given toward them as he lifted his eyes from the stoic frame of the dark-haired girl next to the window to her comrades.

"Old friends _reuniting._ Such a lovely sight indeed." He said after a moment or two of debating whether or not he should say something, and then seated himself beside the pale Christine. "Please, by all means, continue."

"Um." The blond-haired girl giggled all of a sudden, and the dark eyes slid to her. "Oh, your the new Prefect from our Year! Tom Riddle, right?"

"It comes as a shock that one so lovely would know me." A courteous tone, and she blushed. The one sitting next to her looked at him and narrowed his eyes, staring at him resentfully. "Yes, I am him," One of the boy's arms slid around the girl's shoulders, and he pulled her closer into his side. Tom let out a soft laugh and then stared at the boy. "Please do not be alarmed. I have no intention of stealing your girlfriend away from you."

The boy only 'hrm'ed at him and then focused his eyes on the pale girl beside him, beginning to inquire of how her summer had gone by. She only replied with - it seemed to him - a dry tone and simple, hard facts; 'she was no pureblood with lots of money' and that her parents worked at the Ministry. Simple facts, really, but it intrigued him that she would speak so disdainfully and absently of her parents; most of the children in this Year he knew said they 'loved' their parents, did they not? Psh. **_Pitiful_ _love_**_. Is there more to this girl than it seems, hmmm?_ He mused silently. _Is she just like the rest of them, with no knowledge of how this world as we know it really runs, relying on that idiotic emotion that they should know does not exist? I wonder. Is she as naive as they **all** are?_ So he opened his mouth, and spoke.

"Your parents work at the Ministry?" He made sure his voice was only curious and soft. He pulled out his diary as he spoke and questioned her, as well as a quill. "It must be hard on you. I'm sure they are very busy, if they have no time to spend with their lovely daughter."

She responded with a, "Try telling that to them."

It was a simple statement, really, though hidden behind it seemed some sort of anger.

"There _will_ come a time when they yearn for your attention. It will be your choice whether you give it to them or not. I wonder, what will you choose?" Tom's lips curved up into a secret smile as he began to write down a simple set of enchantments; the ink sank into the paper and disappeared without a trace. "Drive the needle of vengeance into their hearts for loving their work more then you? Or forgive them for their lack of thought on your part? Forgive them for their detachment?"

He could feel the intense gray eyes resting on him, like a twin pair of x-rays...silent she was, yet the hairs at the back of his neck prickled as she gazed at him. Tom finally let up a fleeting glance to her face - yes, an even more so intent look on her face, as if she was studying him for 'further reference'...something along those lines. He could not be sure himself. Tom offered her a small, partial smile, and her eyes flickered away from him, resting back on the blond-haired boy - Lucius Malfoy, ah, he remembered his name now - as he began to speak. Their conversation turned from the inevitable subject of her annoyance with her parental figures to what seemed to bring life into her voice as she spoke - Quidditch, a sport he had never been entirely good at.

"Chrissy, are you still trying out for the Seeker's position this year?" The girl beside Lucius - Bellatrix's sister Narcissa; he knew her by first glance, since Bellatrix could not stop talking about her for an instant - asked Christine in interest.

"Yes. If there's someone better than me, I'll just have to deal with it." She let out a breath and then focused her eyes back out the window. "It's not like I need the position or anything."

"Yeah, we've all heard that one before," Narcissa giggled and then smiled brightly. "Quidditch is your life, Chrissy. Every one of your spare minutes last year was spent up in the air..."

"So what? I like to fly, all right? Doesn't mean I'm any good at it..." A degrading statement from a **Slytherin?** My, my, everything was surprising him today! "Like I said. If there's someone better than me, then I can't do anything about it. Flying on a broom isn't going to help me get any better than that person after they've qualified for the position."

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a knowing glance. _Hmm_? Tom's eyes shifted up as he heard a familar voice echo throughout the corridors and compartments - signifying their arrival at the station - the conductor's voice, telling them, as usual, that they would be stopping fairly quickly and that all things were to be stowed and people to be seated. He stopped writing aburptly - one wrong word and the entire enchantment placed on the book could be ruined - he would have to consider doing this another time. They had talked for quite a while, had they not? It was amusing, really; the train rides to him had always been so long and boring...it was a change from the usual sights of uneventful scenery that he always had his eyes on as they rode further towards the school.

The train was slowing down - and yes, finally it had come to a stop. He heard the conductor's faint voice over thousands of excited student voices - "Welcome back to Hogwarts, you may now unload and depart from the train. Have a nice year!" - the customary goodbye from a train's conductor, he supposed. Tom reached under the seat and jerked the trunk out from underneath it, composed, as usual, and then got to his feet. "Well," He said to the three, who turned their attention back to him. "I am supposing that I will see you later," seeing that none of them got into any...**major** trouble, "In the _common room."_ They nodded at him, and Tom Riddle, supressing the urge to smirk in a demeaning way at the expression on Ms. McCallion's face, exited the compartment, tugging his trunk after him.

There was no doubt in his mind that they would speak about him. People had always called him...one with presence, had they not? _Tom Riddle? Oh, I've heard of him! That_ _dominating black-haired boy who expects what he says to be obeyed! Who does he think he IS?_ He mused on his own thoughts for a moment or so. He could almost hear the voices of his fellow students as they spoke about him in such light terms. _That Slytherin Prefect boy who is always there when you least expect it...he's always in the right place at the right time. _Perhaps it was not that he was in the right place at the right time...it was the fact that they were always in the right place at the **wrong times.** It made him chortle as he walked from the train, still pulling his trunk behind him, mindful of how empty it seemed compared to all the others, who had to drag it step by painful step...

Tom Riddle kept walking, speeding up as the castle came into his line of sight.

Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He had fallen in love with this castle - longed for it, more than anything else in the world - long ago when he was still a tiny, unassuming 1st Year boy who could be scared so easily by the burning of a wardrobe. Hogwarts; a place that he had come to know as his own personal castle...his own personal palace against all odds. It was very simple when it came to these thoughts about a place he come to once a year until it would eventually end next year...Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was his home. There was no other place for him to go, save for the Orphanage that he lived at over the summer, and it would be a cold day in hell before he would return there and begin to 'appreciate the benefits' of it all, like that old crock Dumbledore had said before he'd left at the end of his Fifth Term year...

Hogwarts would be more than his home in due time, oh yes.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry -

Tom's mouth curved into a shrewd grin as he stared up at the turrets of the castle.

- Would be **HIS**.

* * *

**AN: **Those words ring omnious in this 14 year old heart. Kind of gives it a creepy, edgy feel to it. ( shiver ) Tom Riddle always have the talent to creep someone out because you never know what he's thinking until you go inside his mind itself. EEEEEEEEEEE it makes me excited that I'm actually continuing this story! YEAH YEAH YEAH GO STRAWBERRY, GO STRAWBERRY! 

**Lucius**: WTF is wrong with you? Do I really come off as that QUIET? ( _vain toss of hair over shoulder_ )

**Me**: No, I just wanted you to be that way.

**Narcissa**: I am NOT that girlish. ( _growl_ )

**Me**: I know, I just wanted you to be that way.

**Tom**: I'm perfect!

**Me**: I don't even need to want you to be that way.

**Voldemort**: How DARE you have the audacity mess with my past, you BRAT!

**Me**: ( _hug_ ) Eee! Voldylocks!

**Voldemort**: Avada kedav- ( _points wand at clinging person to his arm_ )

**Tom**: NO I WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENS! ( beats future self with broom stick )

**Voldemort**: Oh fine. Have your fun.


	3. You Dare Call Me By That Common Name?

**AN - November 6th, 2005: **Yay, and welcome back to the fiction that is currently at work in my completely unfathomable mind and computer. I don't know if I lost any readers, or if I GAINED any readers, but that's okay, since I'm a complete idiot anyways and don't really want to think of anything concerning the words 'loss' and 'gain'. ( _sigh_ ) I think I have a weight problem...any ways...let's get back onto subject, hey hey hey! The third chapter of a fanfic that is probably going to turn out spectacularly long if Val gets off her lazy butt and posts back to me. ( _attention-bringing cough_ ) You know, I really love people who read my AN. Because they know what's going on. And oh yeah. THE SORTING SONG FEATURED IN THIS FANFICTION IS MINE. Do not steal it. It took me like 2 seconds to write it.

_Poisonous Reality: _A review I got right off the bat after I submitted. I'm startin' to like you more and more. Marry me? xD ( _hugs teh Poisonous Reality's munage and then runs off to complete the chapter that will probably not be as long as any of the others but that's okay_ )

_Lady of the Light_: Thanks for the review. Man, I think it is SO COOL that I get like, two reviews every single day in my email. WHOOGOPEOPLEYOUROCK! I hope I got your Penname right...I don't have the list right now...

_Queen of the Badgers_: I hate those kinds of stories. xD Ginny and Tom? Ewwww. Ginny was only a puppet for him to use so he could come back to power! Balaaarghrgrgr. ( _Badger!_ ) Thanks for the review.

_404_: Yet another that I love so much now. I swear to god I'm gonna marry all of my reviewers. Sorry abou' that post in the reviews. Was telling someone something...

**Only For You**

**By**: Kifujin no STRAWBERRY

_Chapter Three_

_Welcome Back to Hogwarts_

* * *

There seemed to be nothing worse and time consuming to one in the Wizarding World who had not eaten for perhaps a day or two due to attempting to get all summer assignments done than sitting down in a large, spacious hall and waiting so very impatiently for the Headmaster to stand and make the customary beginning of the year speech. There were always those who had not even bothered to do the work at all, parchment stretched out in front of them as they scribbled and scrawled down what they hoped were the answers, blotting the parchment and smearing the ink, which did them no good when it came to the neatness category. There were quite a few at the Gryffindor table, actually - and it seemed that the Headmaster was only waiting for them to finish their homework.

How annoying.

Christine had chosen a seat the farthest from the staff table; she trusted none of them, least of all a certain Professor Dumbledore. He did not frighten her, and he did not awe her - she just did not **like** Albus Dumbledore. In fact, she had to bet that no one that had ever ended up in Slytherin had. Not Narcissa, not Lucius, not Evan or any of his little side kick buddies who found it hilarious to tease 1st Years and scare them out of their wits by performing only a few simple tricks with their wands, and certainly not _her. _He was odd and entirely too happy for her own sake; she would have rather sat as far away as possible from him, perhaps up in the Slytherin common room, if she could.

But apparently, you had to remind a student once a year that the Forbidden Forest really did live up to it's name in many extraordinary ways ( hence why they were making the same idiotic speech and making the older, less stupid students stay ). It was _forbidden_.

Tom Riddle, likewise to the female companion he had chosen to sit with - a certain Bellatrix Black, who looked at him so adoringly - had chosen one of the seats where all of his so-called _friends_ could sit. Avery, Rookwood, Rosier, Black, Dolohov, Crabbe, Goyle...sitting silent, staring stonily at their plates and not once looking up to meet the smiling green eyes of the old Headmaster. In fact, the seven of them all together looked quite bored with the entire prospect of, in Rosier's opinion, _'this stupid little meeting where the idiot at the front of the room speaks and then we get to eat...we have to WAIT until he speaks to EAT'. _Tom thought it most boring, though it did not stop him from talking to Bellatrix. She had much to report from her mother...

The entrance hall doors began to creak open - yes, the 1st Year students had finally arrived, some of them soaking wet from the lake that they had to cross ( one of the 1st Years was beaming wildly and yelling, 'I fell in! I fell in!' ), though the majority of them were dry. Tom caught a glimpse of the girl that he had supposedly helped on the train. She was looking around at the tables, her eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, before she disappeared into the swarming crowd of chatting little boys and girls.

"Aha, our newcomers have arrived!" Dippet tried to raise his frail, feeble voice, and several of the 1st Years jumped. "Welcome, students - ah, yes, I recognize you, your Gregory's boy...a fine Quidditch player - and yes, you are Nicole's child...quite a lovely young lady, though I still remember when she turned my nose into a strawberry--"

Several of the teachers at the staff table stifled a laugh and ended up coughing fakely to cover it up. Dumbledore just laughed heartily, and Christine and half of the Slytherin table wrinkled their noses at the sound.

"Now..." Dippet raised a hand, and the students quieted, directing their attention to their Headmaster. Heads turned from the Gryffindor table, and the voices that were still going were quieted by a look from the Potion's professor - a Mr. Horace Slughorn. "We've...welcomed you back to Hogwarts many times now, my older students, though to the small children standing in front of me, this is the beginning of an even greater adventure. Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - we bade you farewell the last time, though this time it is not so! We open our doors and our hearts to our students, young and old."

The old man paused for dramatic effect.

"Now, as you all know," Dippet continued on from that point, raising the emerald eyes that he possessed from the beaming, nervous faces of the children in front of him. "There have been rules that were set down by the Hogwarts founders that all need to obey and follow. The Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students of any year, regardless of whom they are and what their standing is. One must not jump into the lake, as the famous saying goes, for the giant squid has gotten very tired of picking up children and depositing them on the lake's shores. Hogsmeade trips will be taken over the weekends by the students of 3rd Year and up, provided that they have their permission slips signed by a parent or guardian to last through the next four years of Hogwarts. And without further ado as to add more to your hunger--"

Another dramatic pause that seemed even longer than before. Several students giggled.

"--we start the Sorting Ceremony."

The doors burst open, and in walked a slim, prim teacher, bespectacled and be-hatted, carrying a stool. Atop that stool stood a rather ragged, patched up old hat - ah, yes, Tom remembered this hat most clearly - The Sorting Hat; the object that Sorted those who were worthy into each of their corresponding Houses. He had not taken a step forward and that hat had named him Slytherin. He distinctly remembered the look in Dumbledore's eyes when it had done that... The teacher - a Professor Merrythought, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for this year and most likely the year after that - set the stool on the ground and dusted her hands off, turning her piercing, hawk-like eyes to the 1st Years gathered around Armando Dippet.

The hat began to move. One of the 1st Year girls squealed, **'Ewww! GROSS!'** and a murmur of laughter travelled through the crowd. The hat moved again, and then a rip at the brim opened wide and...

The hat began to **sing.**

_Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts_

_Please don't judge on what you see_

_For everything here is fairly different_

_Listen, and you'll understand me_

_Hogwarts is a school of companionship_

_So said the founders long ago_

_Hogwarts shall be a school of loyalty_

_Hogwarts shall help young minds grow_

_Four Houses are those you can go to_

_Four Houses where you can find home_

_Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw_

_With me you won't have to roam!_

_First on the list lies strong Gryffindor_

_The bravest come to dwell here_

_In your breast lies the heart of a lion_

_If your Sorted there_

_Second comes sly Slytherin_

_Cunning and smooth you must be_

_Intelligence and power is in your blood_

_Though power is most likely your key_

_Third sings sweet Hufflepuff_

_Gentle and caressing you are_

_If your not in the others you belong here_

_To find a home you won't look far_

_And last, but not least, is Ravenclaw,_

_Smart and focused are you_

_Those with a mind for knowledge_

_You belong here; you know it's true!_

_Now, young student, don't be afraid -_

_Step forward and put me on!_

_I'll find a place where you belong_

_And may you live happily after on!_

The 1st Years and the entire hall of students exploded in applause for the hat's new song, though most of the smaller ones clapped in confusion - what were they supposed to say to that, hmm? Hoorah, hoorah? They had no idea even why the hat sang at the beginning of the year; in fact, no body did. They just went along with it. Merrythought cleared her throat and then stepped forward, facing the students that were in front of her. She might have been beautiful, if not for the small frown that irked the corners of her mouth into a small frown, and the narrow greenish yellow eyes that focused so intently upon them.

"When I call your last name," Merrythought's entire outside demeanor changed. She smiled brightly at the students gathered around the Headmaster, and they relaxed visably from the wide-eyed look they'd given her moments ago. "Please come up and sit on the stool. I will place the hat on your head, and once it decides, the hat will call out which house you are in. Now...please step forward...Calavert, Rebecca."

The child that he had watched being bustled about by those of her year hurried forward, pulling at her robes, one hand drawn to her mouth in apprehension. She sat down, and the hat was placed upon her brown head. The hall quieted. She was trembling, visably, from head to foot, one foot scuffing the floor nervously, and the hat moved about on her head, giving one the funny impression that there was a good-sized creature inside of the hat that was crawling about on her. It did take a while, deciding which House this child would be in - in fact, the hat seemed to be _talking_ to her, before realizing that there were other students that it needed to take care of. Idiot. The tear in the brim of the ragged hat opened wide, and bellowed, **"GRYFFINDOR!"**

The table at the very end exploded with cheers and happy whistles. She removed the hat and then hurried over to the table that cheered the loudest, her face bright red.

_It seems that the school is not short a Gryffindor or two_, Christine thought boredly, drumming her fingers on the table top. Narcissa was busy braiding her hair or something or other like that; she hadn't really listened to what the other girl had said she was going to do. She was mainly focused on the Sorting. _Two Slytherins, four Gryffindors, a Hufflepuff, and a pair of Ravenclaws. Hrm. We need more Slytherins. suppose that the two we got are quite good, and may have specific skills, but then again...they look inexperienced, and dull. Tch. Maybe they'll improve in time. Who knows?_

Across from her and a little along the ways, Tom Riddle was thinking the same thing.

"Dolohov, Corina," Merrythought called, and the child that he had helped on the train hurried up to her. Dolohov's sister? He glanced at his supposed _friend,_ to find that all of his followers had straightened up and were looking at the small child that hurried forward. "Now dear, sit down -- yes, there you go."

The hat was wiggling about on her head wildly, as if it were laughing, and she jumped at a particular movement, and the hat flopped sidewards. Moronic object. Corina sat silent for a few moments, before the hat said loudly, "Ah, another Dolohov, eh? Hah hah...I know just where to put you...SLYTHERIN!" The Slytherin House roared in a burst of cheer as the Dolohov sister hurried forward, looking for her big brother. Antonin had actually shoved Avery to another seat and patted the seat beside him for the little one even before she had been Sorted, who was beaming proudly and grinning like Christmas **AND** her birthday had just come early this year.

Tom let a small, secretive smile out her way; she blushed.

"Score three for Slytherin." Narcissa giggled softly in Christine's ear, and even the usually stoic girl let out a smirk.

"Let's see if we can get at least two more, eh?" The girl replied, and then turned as Narcissa let go of her hair. Of course, being the very unmanagable hair that it was, it just came out of the neat braid that the blond girl had put it in and fell down her back again in the usual dark curls.

"I don't think so." Lucius mused from the other side of Narcissa. "It looks to me that the other four or five remaining students are Gryffindor and Hufflepuff idiots."

Christine took note of this and then actually stood up to peer over his head - she was not _short,_ she was just _vertically challenged_. There was a difference between those two terms. Unfortunately, he was right - a kid with a load of sandy hair, a blond girl with extremely red cheeks, another girl that looked a little foreign ( she didn't know what she was...french, maybe? ), a boy with black hair, and another boy with brown hair. None of them looked even remotely good enough to be in Slytherin. Alas, yet another year with a shortage of those in her House. It was unfortunate enough that there were a load of Gryffindor students this year, but this was just ridiculous. A _heart of a lion._ Curse them all.

Oh well.

"Now that this is finished, I am prepared to eat as much as I can stuff myself with without combusting from the inside--" Dippet laughed and then extended his hands to the sides. Christine resisted the vague temptation to roll her eyes at the corny joke. "Begin your feast!"

In unison, food began to appear everywhere - heaping mounds of mashed potatoes, chicken, turkey, peas, Yorkshire puddings and other such dessert delicacies, fruit, vegetables, biscuits and bread, tea and milk - everything that could possibly suit the needs of the hungry children that sat at the tables. Hands began to grab for the food eagerly, piling it onto the thin golden plates that sat at each student's residence, and at once, the Hall was filled with chatter and the sounds of forks scraping over the plates as some people unceremoniously began to shovel the food into their mouths. Narcissa looped around the table and whispered something in Bellatrix's ear - the black-haired girl's lips spread into a grin, whilst Tom only subjected himself to eating. It wasn't necessary to pay attention to it if it didn't involve him, did it?

No.

He was done quite quickly, actually...and ended up only rising from his seat to lead the 1st Years ( all who had huddled together in that tight pack that was usually expected out of children their age ) to the Common Room. Christine - whose gaze he could even feel from the position above the small children he stood above; she had rather penetrating eyes, that one did - looked up as he made to leave, and Tom Riddle gave her that generous little smile, though she did not return it, and only watched him as he swept off to the Wing in which the _Slytherin Common Room_ was enclosed and hidden throughout many halls and a nearly labyrinth-like section of the castle. The Slytherin Common Room was pretty much a long underground room with low hanging green lamps. The chairs, and various pillows, were situated near a high, beautifully carved mantelpiece in which a fire was crackling and sending warmth throughout the room, though the place was still chilly and dark, even in summer.

"Students," Tom extended his arms to the side. "This is the Slytherin Common Room, and the place where you will be staying for the remainder of your time here at Hogwarts. The left Wing, through there," he pointed a finger towards the back to the left of the mantlepiece, "Is the Girl's Wing. You will find your things set there beforehand by your designated sleeping area. The right Wing is the Boy's Wing. The same goes for you."

Tom watched them as they all hurried upstairs to find their trunks. A small smile perked the sides of his lips and he turned toward the fire, watching it crackle and turn. In the strange light the lamps cast on him, his smile looked so very much like a sneer. The others would be arriving soon from the Hall - yes, he could hear some of their voices outside of the door as they walked back, even through the stone, which sometimes he himself couldn't understand how that was...but it was a magical world, and he expected no less from it. Tom settled himself back in the highback chair that he had chosen by the fire, the flames dancing over his features and darkening his face in an alarming way. Avery emerged into the room, and the dark, sultry eyes darted up, resting on him. Without invitation, the bulky, taller one sat beside him, silent, as usual.

"And how was your summer vacation?" Asked the soft voice. Avery simply shook his head. "Why, Avery, you seem none too quick to answer. Mine was pitiful, to say the least. Being stuck with those filthy Muggles was torture. I yearned for this castle and it's beautiful turrets...I longed for Hogwarts..."

"Tom..."

"When we're alone, what did I say to do?" The tone had turned harsh and cold, and then dark eyes glinted. "You dare call me by the common name?"

"I'm sorry, I just--"

"No matter. Keep your voice down. We wouldn't want anyone else hearing. Soon my friends will increase in number; the faithful will rise to meet me." Such a change from the smiling, gentle boy who he had been when he had talked to Christine on the train!

Avery knelt, and kissed his right hand, head lowered.

"That's a good boy."

This was his true side ; the side that he chose to hide, the side that many of his supposed 'friends' feared. It was dominating, demanding of all respect...everything he said was to be followed, no matter what. This was the _real_ him that lay inside the shell that said things so politely, and articulated his thoughts so softly, afraid of being caught 'wrong'... This real him brushed aside all thoughts of the emotions of others...he simply did not care. Tom leaned back in his chair, staring into the fire, his pale face transformed in the red and green light that blended so quickly. _The faithful will rise to meet me..._

It was the face of a demon with soulful eyes and a disarming smile.

* * *

**AN:** Oh god. My muse had left me behind, hence the fact that this chapter was incredibly hard to turn out. Ugh, schoolwork and all of that random stuff like problems with friends has been weighing down my mind, so I apologize to anyone who likes this story / has it favorited for the fallback in update. Expect the next chapter out a little bit earlier, and if it isn't, well, I'm pretty much cursed and my muse is like, 'omfgurliektehsuckzors' and will leave me again.

**Tom:** THE FAITHFUL ONES WILL RISE TO MEET ME!

**Me:** I know, I've sorta repeated that...I like that line. Uwehehehehe.

**Voldemort:** The faithful all ready HAVE risen to meet me. ( _snort_ ) Idiot.

**Tom:** Shut up, you.

**Voldemort:** Keep it up and I'll kill you too once she's done writing this damnable fanfiction and screwing up my life.

**Tom:** You can't kill me. Your killing yourself too.

**Voldemort:** No I'm not. I'm killing what I once was.

**Tom:** Exactly. You.

**Voldemort:** Shut up, you.

**Me:** Wait a minute...what?

**Tom + Voldemort:** Nothing you sweet sweet child. ( _pat pat_ )

**Harry:** Hey, how come I'm not in this story?

**Voldemort:** POTTER! ( _wand draw omfg drama! _)

**Harry:** Shut up, you.

**Voldemort:** ( _sulk _)

**Me:** Your not in this story because I don't like you.

**Harry:** ...Oh. Okay. ( _walks off _)

**Tom:** Should we really just let him walk off like that?

**Me:** He should realize what I said in a couple moments...5...4...3...2...1.

**Harry:** HEY! What do you mean you don't like me!


	4. I have a secret'

**AN - November 24th, 2005**: YEAH REVIEWS! ( _cheers so spazztastically that the nearby neightbors look up from their yardwork and go all, o.O_ ) Oh yeah, the fourth chapter has come out because I'm extremely bored at this time, and I want to continue this for the sake of my wonderful friends who have bothered to review on this story and wow is this sentence long. I have to give thanks to everyone that's bothered to review - j00 guys are liek teh best in the world! I am sorry if I forget anyone when I give my thankies in the chapter ; I'm usually not online when I'm typing it up, so yeah. Wheeeheheh. I love you guys. POISONOUS ONE YOU NEED TO TALK TO ME. I'm lonely. XD

_404:_ It's one of the best portrayals? YES! That means I'm doing good. ( _scoring dance omfgtouchdown! _) THANK YOU!

_The Lady of the Light:_ Look, look, I put THE! Heheh.

_Queen of the Badgers: _Rawwwwwwrrrrr YES! Your awesome. Let's go reviewers who are awesome, let's go! ( _gives you a random latte and then runs off to go finish the chapter since people are probably not reading this but that's really okay_ )

**Only For You  
****By:** Kifujin no STRAWBERRY

_Chapter Four  
__'I have a secret...'_

* * *

If there was one thing that she could say about Hogwarts that was actually a good statement, that one statement was that Hogwarts had really, really, good food.

Well, at least she thought so.

But, after you have had more than your share of food - which included mashed potatoes, pudding, beef, carrots, and corn all in the same meal ; she was rather hungry, you know - the Hall did get rather tiring, with all the noise, small children being hurled through the air kudos to Crabbe and Goyle tossing a 1st Year back and forth while he squealed, and food. Christine rose to her feet, stepping backwards away from the bench she sat at, shifting her weight and making a mental note to never eat so much in one sitting again. Uuuggghhh. Her stomach felt like it really _was_ ready to spontaniously combust, or explode, or do **something**. Suppressing a soft noise of surprise at the feeling she got in her abdomen as she stood, the dark-haired 6th Year turned on her heel - only to be promptly collided with, for no apparent reason at all.

Her 'collider' was a red-headed girl who was at least a head taller than her and in the same House, by the Slytherin crest emblazoned on the left of her robes. Aha. Elisabeth Calavert, the older sister of the child who had been Sorted into Gryffindor and definately **not** one of Christine's favorite people in the world to just randomly collide with. She _did_ have a mind to apologize to Ms. Calavert, had she not opened her mouth.

"Get out of my _way,_" Elisabeth said disdainfully, shoving her backwards a bit. "Halfblood."

This statement...cracked Ms. Christine McCallion's stoic mask.

There were two things in this world she hated more than anything else that could possibly be hated ( such as whiny little brothers and idiotic perverted people who like to sit next to you on the train and feel you up for pocket money ). The first thing was a certain someone. The second thing? Being called _halfblood._ It brought such a look of fury onto the pale girl's face, and the grey eyes glinted like cold ice, darkening around the edges. Elisabeth had pressed all of her buttons at once in a malfunction, and she knew that the word that she had just used had caused it. A self-satisfied smile appeared on the taller girl's face, and she continued.

"I don't even know how you got into Slytherin, Chrissy-Chris," She mocked an earlier nickname Narcissa had called her...and Christine, physically, bristled. If she had had hackles, they would have been raised. "After all, only the _purest_ of blood is allowed in the great House of Serpents, don't you agree? Your blood is tainted with an idiot Muggle's...how laughable!"

And Elisabeth demonstrated just how incredibly laughable it was by laughing in Christine's face.

Christine's cheeks pinkened.

"Oh, are we getting cross, are we?" Elisabeth had the nerve to reach out and pinch one of the darkening cheeks, though Christine stood rooted to the spot, cold eyes fixated on the girl in front of her. "Does Mummy need to drive her Mugglemobile to pick up Ickle Chrissykins?"

Christine simply stared at her. Elisabeth laughed and then patted her, hard, on the cheek.

"Don't let that temper run out on you now." The red-headed girl turned, robes swirling with her, and then walked back to the side of table she had been sitting on, cleaning up after herself.

Oh, how dearly Christine had wished she would have tripped.

She stood there, unsmiling, before turning, and starting out of the Hall. Elisabeth Calavert would have hers coming...she was sure of it. How was she so sure, do you ask? Ms. Christine was not your average idiot savant, oh no. The narrow, intelligent grey eyes told you so - she was much more capable of stringing two words together in a sentence that probably would end up as a misunderstanding after said to whomever it had been directed toward. All she needed to do was wait for Elisabeth to round the corner and--

"What the--!"

"Stay still so I can hex you!"

"G...GAHHHHH! HELLLPPPP!"

And Elisabeth was off like a shot, a red streak running through the halls, up towards the Common Room. Tom would help her - yes, he was the Prefect, he could restrain the halfblood _beast!_ Christine trailed not even a foot behind, in hot pursuit, black and green robes billowing behind her as she swerved and avoided 1st Years, keeping close to Elisabeth, blood pounding in her ears. She'd show her halfblood! Oh, god, she'd make her **suffer** as if she'd never suffered anything before! Elsabeth skidded around a corner, uttered a yelping cry, and then nearly hit the wall in her hurried attempt to get into the Common Room while closing the door behind her. It didn't work. Christine reached out and snatched a fistful of her robes, spinning her around with a snarl, right fist raised.

"Now now, what is this?" A voice asked sharply, and she turned to see Tom Riddle walking toward them quickly, a shadow. "_Christine?"_

Avery had backed into his chair and nearly fell over, while Antonin Dolohov had come into the room with his sister, who had not gone with the rest of the 1st Years. Antonin smirked. Tom caught Christine's wrist in hand, attempting to pacify the raging girl, pulling her slightly away so that she released Elisabeth's robes. Elisabeth's wrist had also been caught to keep her from fleeing. He would have no drawbacks.

"I think we should settle down here before someone is hurt. Now, I'd like either one of you to explain to me what the problem is. Which one will go first? One at a time. **Please." **He paused, lowering his eyes to Christine's face. It was etched with fury, pale mask discarded. What emotion. The dark eyes lingered for one more second, before turning to Elisabeth quickly. "Come now. How can we solve this?"

"We can cut off her head and feed it to the wolves, that's what we can do." Christine said, and even though she was shaking with rage, the voice was deadly soft - very cold.

"Try it!" Elisabeth shot back angrily, and in unison both girls tugged at their arms. Tom's eyes only narrowed, and he kept them both in place, pale fingers tightening around their wrists. "Your family ARE the blood traitors! A pureblood conceiving a child with a filthy Mudblood! It's UNHEARD OF! And now you stand here...tainted...looking like the very Mudblood that you spawned from. I'm surprised you haven't morphed into one of those muggle folk who watch that electrical box..."

Christine's skin was suddenly, suddenly very cold, locked in his digits. She had straightened up to the point where she was at her full height, and from what Tom could see, apparently looked _pissed off as hell._ Teeth were gritted behind pale lips, gray eyes were widening even as he watched her facial expression. And quite by surprise, Christine made a movement.

She ripped her arm out of his grip, pulling it out with a violent jerk, spinning and plunging her hand into her robes. The glint of a wand, now pointing directly at Elisabeth's pitiful, pounding heart. Birch, 13 and a half inches, dragon heartstring - very ready to jinx this girl.

"_Say that **to my face!"**_ Christine hissed.

Wait...hissed?

Tom stood...completely frozen.

She was speaking _parseltongue._

Dark eyes blinked for a slight moment, stupified, and even the expression on his face dropped from the usual calm mask to one of utter confusion, mingled with a little bit of amazement. The expression consisted of his jaw hanging open, eyes widening, and a couple stupid blinks thrown in there.

"**Parseltongue**." His whispered in surprise after composing himself. It was then, right there, that Tom Riddle finally decided.

Christine McCallion would be one amongst his ranks, and if she refused or fought back, she'd die.

Simple as that.

"Christine. Lower your wand. The _last_ thing we want right now is to have you expelled on your first day back. I know you are angry with her, but your anger could cause you to seriously hurt her," Not like he would mind, but-- "For me, please lower your wand."

He could not lose her to the laws of the school now if he had only just decided that she was to be one of his pawns! Tom rested his eyes on her face - she seemed to be fighting with herself over whether or not she was just going to jinx this girl with the most powerful spell she knew or putting down her wand and calming down. A small frown was forming on her face and her forehead creased slightly, before slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her wand. Even though that was so...the eyes, incredibly cold, stayed very much focused on Elisabeth. Slowly, deliberately, the red-headed girl tugged her wrist out of Tom's hand and darted up into the girl's Common Room, black robes billowing behind her.

Christine's fist clenched as she echoed a hollow breath and attempted to calm herself down. Her mind swarmed with rage, spiteful words and thoughts filled with violent intents... Her thoughts were focused, irrepressibly, on **pain**, causing pain to the one who had invoked her rage...though quickly, some sort of other feeling flooded into her mind, wiping away the thoughts quickly. Her face quickly assumed some sort of...stoic mask, a mask she hide behind when she didn't want to show her emotions, and often, it wasn't easy to pry that mask off. _No. _A quick shake of her head, and the gray eyes opened. _...I was lucky that he was here. I could have seriously...hurt her..._

_Or done worse._

"We_ must_ **control **our anger when we are insulted least we commit an act we'll regret. That young girl isn't worth you being expelled, Christine. That's _what _she wants, **you realize.** She'd love to see you expelled and shamed. When you become angry you lose control and it makes it ever so easy for her to goad you into striking out at her. That is the way childish, feeble minds work. Rise above her and her insults and simply ignore it," Tom said softly, his voice intoning on specific words, trying to at least get through to her. Christine's eyes darted and rested on him for a moment. "Avery. Give the lady your seat by the fire. It's cold here in the common room ; it always is, even in the dead of summer and early fall."

Avery rose and hurried off in a not so specific direction, grunting something at Antonin, who followed him up into the Boys' Dormitory to discuss the recent happenings. Tom followed them with the dark hues for a moment, and then took Christine's hand, leading her to the seat - the highback leather chair situated closest to the fire, sitting her down as if he was the one who really owned her body and she had no idea what she was doing. He seated himself across from her, leaning head back in the chair and studying her with satisfaction. Her knuckles had whitened to the point in which they looked like bone where they clutched at the chair arms and her face was still pale and angry. He could see, behind the gray eyes, she was trying to calm herself down...and slowly, it was working. Very slowly.

Tom decided to add to that factor, his voice soft and soothing.

"Do you realize what you just did?" He asked kindly, a small smile twisting the corners of his mouth. "You spoke Parseltongue. Not many are blessed with such a gift. How long have you been able to speak it?"

"P...Parseltongue..." She muttered, head lowering, her body sinking into the chair in defeat. Tom followed the movement with an approving look. "When I was...smaller...my father can speak it...so I guess that's where I...got it from..."

"I understand if you don't wish to speak of it now. You're trembling and you're still very angry. It's difficult, I know, being a **half-blood** _myself. _Witch mother, Muggle father." Tom intoned gently, and her head rose, eyes widening. "I haven't spoken of this to many, _save two,_ and you're the third I've revealed it to. Does it surprise you? I wonder what your brave attacker would have to say if she knew?"

"...My mother...she is the muggle, while my father is the pureblood...I...didn't realize that you were even half-blood, I thought you were a _pureblood, _just by the way that you were acting..." Christine looked at him for a moment, before glancing off into the fire. "I'm not going to tell anyone...your blood purity isn't any of their business..."

**_"No._** I'm a half-blood. When my father found out my mother was a witch he left her. My father didn't like magic." The dark eyes crackled with anger for a second. "She had no home; she was with child and living on the streets. She gave birth to me at an orphanage and there she died, or so Miss Cole has told me. I never knew her. Ah, but I have seen her face in my mind and it is a jewel to me, Christine. I have seen her and I'll never forget her. I've lived in the orphanage all my life. I_ yearn_ for the day when I'm of age and able to leave the place," He looked at her intently at her words of his blood, "I thank you. I'd rather keep my bloodline a secret. It would make life difficult for me and at this time I'd rather that not happen."

His slaves wouldn't take him seriously if they knew what he was ; that was the reason why. It was simple, and yet so demanding, that she not tell anyone. He would bind her to that word ; that she would never tell anyone of the spoils of his blood, of how disgusted he was with his father for leaving a woman he didn't know... He reached out and took her hand, and almost jerked back away from it in surprise. The digits were icy cold, pale, and so very small in his hands. It was strange, her size compared to his. He offered a soft squeeze of her palm and her gray eyes drew down to where their hands lay.

"I _have _a secret I must confide you in. I can't tell you now but I will tell you in the future. I wonder: Will you keep it? Trust in me as I've trusted in you? I need you, Christine. I need your friendship now more then ever. I'm alone and I need it, more then you can realize. I'm lonely and I feel as thought no one can understand my position. But you, perhaps you could. We are alike in many ways." The handsome, youthful face was contorted with an expression of sadness. Sadness? He was never sad ; no, always angry. It was all an act.

Christine only gazed at him for a small moment, before looking away. Tom had a strange sinking feeling in his chest...was he all ready losing the battle for her loyalty?

Finally, after debated moments, the girl replied, "If you need me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, anyways. All you'll need to do is reach."

"**Thank you**, Christine I assure you, I will need it. **Always,** Christine Whenever I need you, you'll be there? You'll give me your **hand?** I'll give you mine. Should you ever need me, all you need do is ask for my help. You've been kind to me and though we haven't spoken much before now, I truly feel as though we have been friends for a long time. _Haha._ I hope I'm not scaring you right now. I just say what I feel with no thought to what the other might think of me. Perhaps, this is my downfall? I'll tell you the truth right now: On the train, there were plenty of empty compartments I could've chosen for myself but I wanted to stay with **you.** Last year I wanted to talk to you, get to know you better, but I was too much of a coward." That was a huge lie.

He had no intention of getting to know her. He only wanted her on _his _sideall he wanted was her soul and her undying devotion. That was it. He cared for no one. Christine's eyes flickered briefly for a moment, and he fancied it had just been a trick of the flames that she sat so close to, but...it seemed to not be so. Her eyes had indeed moved like the fire...what was it? What was it that caused that fire to move within her? A sudden anger, a memory of something? What?

"Though I doubt that you, Tom Riddle," She treaded carefully about the subject. "A great wizard all ready, a brilliant student, would like to get to know _me,_ Christine McCallion, a simple half-blooded witch with a short temper and an even shorter amount of patience. I would give you my trust if you could earn it. You see...I have been betrayed by many...I am not one to trust so easily. There have been people who have..._lied_ to my face in search of my loyalty, then turned and spit upon it. I'm sure...you must understand...how that feels like?"

She seemed to place emphasis on the word **lie ; **and immediately, Mr. Riddle knew that she knew he'd lied about everything that he'd just sad. But...how did she know? Had he not always been kind - albeit fakely - to everyone that he had met? Was it so strange for him, Tom Riddle, to want to get to know her? Anyone who understood the finer points of exploring the inner psyche of a simple human - though now he wasn't so sure she was that simple anymore - was that all he had to do was look into her eyes, and all her emotions would be open to him like a book. But why could he not decipher what her eyes said to him now? It was so strange, sitting there and gazing into her eyes, trying to unravel the mystery that was her, and not being able to find anything. Not a single thing.

"You_ flatter_ me." He responded in that soft, smooth voice, so capable of convincing those to be his servants - promises of a new world. " Hmmm...I understand. If we are to be friends then I must earn your trust. I will accept that challenge. And being betrayed...actually, that has never happened to me. I suppose I'm lucky it hasn't. Tell me moreabout yourself, Ms. McCallion. If you don't mind doing this. I fear I don't have much to say about myself. Of **course **if you have any questions, I'd be more then happy to answer them. I have all the time in the world."

Did he really happen to look _that _angry, so able of being untrusted to her strange oculars? No. But he was far too perfect in word and action. Frigid, perfectly calm, it was as if he didn't think or feel. He could sit there all night and smile fakely at her, make her fall in love with him - put her through so much that when it came to the time when he would rise in power she would throw herself at his feet and be his constant dog. Yes...this was what he planned. Christine McCallion would be his slave ; throughout time, throughout the eternity that he promised to himself he would live. There would be no other substitute for this slave - she was the ultimate prize in a vending machine and he had so cleverly worked his pale fingers around her...

And if...

If someone could just warm his heart for a moment...

Perhaps he might have a chance.

So, Tom Riddle, pale and handsome, sat back in his chair and stared calmly at her, an unwavering smile on his face, and waited for her to begin.

* * *

**AN:** My muse was on vacation. Me sick for like fifteen thousand days. In fact, I'm still sick as I sit here typing in this AN for your reading pleasure.

**Tom:** And that's why it's two weeks after the date you promised yourself you'd submit this chapter on.

**Me:** ...It's not my fault my math teacher and my stupid stomach were being stupid.

**Tom:** It's just because you don't pay attention half the time.

**Me:** You lie! ( _rant_ )

**Voldemort**: ( _comes out from bathroom in a robe holding a coffee cup that says, 'whose your voldy? WHOSE YOUR VOLDY?'_ ) That chapter was splendid.

**Me**: Eeee you complimented me!

**Voldemort**: You didn't let me finish my sentence...

**Tom**: Shut up, it keeps her happy. Now...lemme find that whistle...

( _magical whistle pops out of no where because it's liek, o mi gawd magickal!_ )

**Tom**: ( _blows into it_ )

**Me**: ( _shrieks and then runs and hides under couch_ )

**Voldemort**: ( _turns toward you people_ ) It's like one of those dog whistles. Except it's for the rabid 'I'm-a-dark-wizard' followers who are too close. So if you get too close to me, rabid fan girl who is going to comment and favorite this story or I'll send you to the next dimension where you will meet your ancestors and have a horrible time in the afterlife while I laugh maniacally over your corpse, I - meaning my past self, of course - shall blow this whistle and your ear drums will explode.

**Tom**: We're good. ( _highfives future self_ )


	5. Two of a Kind

**AN - December 11th, 2005: **HI. ( _waves at you wildly from other side of the room since ya know I'm over here and not over there ; it's only common sense, after all!_ ) I have an important thing to shout meaninglessly at you, so listen up. Okay. Here it is. I LOVE VAL AND BAKA-CHAN AND REALITY-SAN AND 404-SAN AND LIGHT-CHAN AND NEW FRIEND FOREVER-SAN AND BADGER QUEEN WHO IS FROM ENGLAND AND RABID AND REIVEN AND AREAES AND YURI AND KAYLA AND MY MOM AND...AND CHRISTMAS SHOPPING AND PRESENTS AND TINFOIL AND SHINY THINGS THAT HAVE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE REST OF THIS CONVERSATION AND CAPITAL LETTERS BECAUSE J.K. ROWLING FINDS IT NECESSARY TO USE THEM. ; There we go. Now on to the story!

_Queen of the Badgers:_ One of the first reviews I got...And WOW, you must have been really hyper. ( _makes a mental note never to give you a latte again_ ) Thank you again. You are like, one of my loyal followers. ( _grin_ ) Maybe I should take over the world... And oh, oh, you liked that 'vending machine' thingy? I was thinking about Pepsi...

_The Third Dragon Rider:_ Correctomundo, precious. Tom is learning to love. Whoo hoo, another follower.

_404:_ ( _all happy_ )

_Poisonous Reality_: You did forget to comment. T.T I was so sad. Like, 'she doesn't love me anymore! Uwaaaahhhhh!'. OMFG I'LL EMAIL YOU RIGHT AWAY! ( _goes to do it_ ) DON'T TAKE AWAY TOM! HIS TENDER PRETTY FLESH DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE FONDLED! Well. Maybe it does. . Er. Whateverrrrr.

_foreverjinxed:_ ANOTHER FOLLOWER! I AM GAINING CONTROL OF YOUR MINDS, BIT BY BIT! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH!111! I love you too.

**Only For You  
****By:** Kifujin no STRAWBERRY

_Chapter Five  
__Two of a Kind_

* * *

"I suppose I should start...back, before the beginning of my years here."

This was how the conversation was to start between the ever eerie Tom Riddle and the dark-haired girl who sat across from him, eyes locked, her leaning forward to face him even more so. The fire flickered in his dark eyes and gave his ghostly face an almost unsightly look to it - a look that told of, even before she began to tell the story, complete mesmerization. His attention was completely locked onto her small figure, leaning forward, elbows touching her knees and pale countenance raised to look him fearlessly in the eyes.

"There is much of my past that is concerned with the..._darker_ arts of magic...of betrayal, alliance...and a brilliant, great family that has died off, a heir unknown."

Tom's heart skipped a beat.

"My family had been and still is, a wealthy family, bred from the roots as purebloods until they came to me and my older brother." Christine closed her eyes. "The McCallion family ; the family of the dead, they say, for those who have often joined my family have always lived past the normal human lifespan and eluded the ever graspy fingers of age. This power was given to us...by a most noble friend."

His breath hitched a little in his throat, though she took no notice.

"My family, the McCallions, is and was known as the right hand of the greatest wizarding family in history - the family of Salazar Slytherin. The _Gaunt_ Family - the last remaining ancestors of Salazar's line, were our closest allies. Unfortunately, as of now, the daughter of the family has gone missing and is deceased. None of the others can be reached at the moment."

Tom froze. Christine looked at him closely, and then stopped abruptly.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, no," Tom quickly brushed it off, fascinated all ready. "Please, by all means, continue."

Christine hesitated for a moment, though at seeing the intense look in his eyes, continued. Tom leaned forward from his settled position and stared at her, waiting for her to once again start the story again.

"I was born the youngest into the family, the sister of the boy who lies in Gryffindor, Erik McCallion - a pureblood from my father's last marriage." The words were said simply, though she drew his attention back to her immediately. "She died, his mother, a long time ago, but they did say that she was one of the most...caring people in the world. I do not know my father's thoughts on this, but undoubtfully he wishes that she did not die, and that my mother had never come along. She is dead as well. She died when I was very little, and all of these years my father has been taking care of me, however _tainted and spoiled_ I am. The mother I speak of, the one who works at the Ministry, is my step mother, and also a muggle. I cannot say I entirely like her."

"There have been many betrayals between the purebloods and that of my family. However, my brother's Sorting into Gryffindor has no doubt been one of the most surprising things that we have come across - his heart is _pure,_ and he has left our domain to live within that of one of his supposed friends. My life has been otherwise uneventful, only filled with lessons that all pureblood children are supposed to take, even know I am not one of them."

Her voice was still emotionless, like she didn't care about it at all. Her eyes flickered again, though, and catching the movement, Tom sat up straighter in his chair and then looked at her. Elisabeth had said that this girl looked like 'the very muggle she was spawned from' - her mother must have been a very beautiful woman, for a pureblood man to take her as his wife, and have her know nothing of the magical world. Then again, he did not know the bounds of love, and refused to understand it. It was simply out of the question.

"What sort of things did you take up as home courses, Ms. McCallion?"

"Christine."

"Excuse me. _Christine._"

"Nnnn. I took swordplay, latin, and...unfortunately...dancing. Magic was out of the question at that time, since I did not have a wand, but as soon as I got it, my father began to teach me."

"I see. So you've been learning magic ever since you got your wand? Amazing. You have quite the extensive ancestry - it is fascinating."

Could this all be true? In all of the research he had done to find out more about his ancestor, he had never found the name McCallion. Perhaps, there was a reason it was not burned down in some foolish history volume? Tom attempted to hide his amazement and glee at this information, dark eyes lightening strangely under the green light given by the lamps, and by the slowly spreading smirk across his face.

"Your...speak of your history reminded me...of a name that I had heard a long time ago." Tom closed his eyes for a brief moment, then looked at Christine. "My mother's name - Merope Gaunt Riddle. She was that daughter who went missing. Her family probably disowned her after she consorted with a muggle, my father, Tom Riddle Senior."

He stood then, and she watched him pace to the other side of the room and turn to come back.

"I know very little about my family, Christine. All I have are names. I know her name, I know my grandfather's name...my uncle's name...and the name of my foolish muggle father. Names are all I have. When I'm of age I plan on finding out more, till then my hands are tied. I can't leave the orphanage, I have no where to go and if I did...I couldn't return to Hogwarts. I need my education...so for now...I must sit and be patient. I want to know so very much! But I know nothing. Can you imagine how it is to know nothing about who brought you into this world? It **eats** at me constantly." The words were so quiet.

"I will admit, Tom Riddle, that I do not know what it is like to grow up without parents, but I do know what it is like to grow up alone." Christine's tone was still soft and cold. "I remember being alone. I remember the feeling of not being able to recognize who your parents are, whether or not they are truly your parents, and I remember asking who they were and why they were in my house. When I was small, and up until now, I have not considered them as parental figures, or even people to look up to," She said. Her tone was so calm and reserved, though the fire burning in her eyes suggested her anger. "They were never there. _Never_. Always working, brushing me off...hiring nannies for me whereas they'd rather be out playing bridge with their friends..."

"Then wehave another thing in common, Christine."

Tom saw himself as an older man in his mind's eye. He was in his late twenties, features distorted, eyes no longer a darkened color but a blood red. He was laughing, insane, long black hair caught in his fingers, hands drawn to his head. Several of his followers lay in a mess around him, dead, silent, and somber. He was mad, and everyone knew it.

_"Fools! You dared to turn against me? **ME! ****I will crush your corpses and litter the ground with your bones! You will die there as you have died HERE! **No oneturns against Lord Voldemort ; no one who wishes to live! All are bound to obey my orders, and should they refuse, then they shall die! YOU SHALL ALL DIE AND GROVEL IN FRONT OF ME, MINDLESS AND LIFELESS!"_

The present Tom Riddle shuddered.

"It must have been hard for you. You could just kill them for it, couldn't you? In time you'll be free from the home which has brought you such disappointment. At that time, life will truly begin." His whisper, and she looked up at him. Strange. Was there a hissing to those words?

"Kill them?" She paused after a moment, then shook her head. "They're...really nothing to me but parental figures that attempt to care. I can't blame them for not being there for me if all they did was to raise and protect me. Once I come of age, I _will_ leave that house and my parents...I...probably want to leave, just as much as you do."

Tom looked at her for a long moment. His penetrating eyes traced her features, the light cast on them ; the shift of the material of her robes as she herself shifted about to find a more comfortable position. Her own eyes were downcast, fingers locking onto the armchairs when she pushed herself up, such a calm look on that pretty, doll-like emotionless face that Tom found himself staring. Yes. Christine did resemble a _doll_ of sorts, pale-skinned with large, gray eyes. Despite her puppet-esque appearance, if there was one thing he noticed, was the innocence she lacked in her eyes. A doll held all the qualities of an innocent little girl ; Christine's eyes held neither the blank lifelessness or the innocence of a doll.

So she was a dark doll. Maybe another to add to his growing collection ; he'd all ready wrapped his fingers around Bellatrix Black, Janise Parkinson, and had gotten into Narcissa Black's head. Three dolls in his collection and one the rarest of all...heh heh... He would like to have that doll, set her up in her castle of glass, and let her watch him, adore him, just like the rest of them did.

"Thank you for talking to me." Tom let out a smile. "If you want to go to bed...then please do. You don't have to stay here with me."

_I want her to stay here with me._

She shook her head calmly. "No, I'll stay. I don't sleep very much, anyways. I'd rather have company than return to nightmares."

_Stay with me...?_

"You've been having nightmares?" He asked in a soft, concerned voice. His voice was so gentle and velvety. "It helps, sometimes, to discuss your nightmares. Speaking about such things that are feared, sometimes helps to decrease the fear of them. I'll understand if you'd rather keep silent about it. I must tell you I haven't been able to sleep as well. Perhaps, a nice walk around the grounds would help to ease your mind? I know it's breaking a rule and it could be dangerous, but I assure you...you'll besafe with me. I won't let us be seen."

"I'd like that walk very much," She said quietly. "And perhaps I may or may not tell you then."

"Follow me. I know this castle inside and out."

He slid back the door in the wall and left it open for her, gazing over his right shoulder with a ghostly smile. As soon as he joined her, he'd take her by the left hand and guided her back into a darkened corridor. The starstwinkled through the darkened windows, tiny little spectral lights that seemed...ghostly Through a few hidden doors the two travelled, along two more corridors, and finally they were on the west side of the grounds. The cool air rustled through Tom's long, black hair, a soothing touch that let the strands fall back into his eyes.

"When I _was_ a boy, I used to enjoy escaping from my dormitory in the orphanage and climbing up to the roof. I'd sit and watch the night sky there; I'd pinpoint each star in my mind. It was soothing, just sitting there...in the dark...in the silence." Christine turned to look up at him at his words.

She only listened to that cool, soothing voice, her hand caught in his right hand as they stood together, looking up at the stars. Black hair, falling to her upper back, rustled slightly against her frame, and she closed her eyes with a smile, simply...enjoying the evening. It was breezy out, cool, perhaps, but that was fine with her. She didn't mind at all. Christine opened her eyes to look up at the sky once more, eyes focusing on the moon, which shone brilliantly above them like a giant pearl. She **did** enjoy the nights...and talking with someone just seemed to make them all the better. But, traveling back to those hot, sleepless nights, staring up at the ceiling and trying to will herself to sleep, it made her happy to be back, finally, to Hogwarts.

"I _always_ used to climb out of the window and do that, before they locked the windows so I couldn't get out," She laughed slightly, gray eyes even more luminous than they were before. Her laugh was soft and strange and drew Tom's attention. "Either that or I'd be up causing trouble...sticking snakes under doors just to listen to the servants scream and clatter around in the morning."

" Really now? I **thought **you might have." Tom would pause in speech; there was a faint smile on his mouth. He was recalling those nights when he'd sit alone on top of the chilled roof and watch the hazy clouds drift over a luminous moon. He actually laughed at her comment, and it was a deep, honeyed laugh, amusement dancing in his voice. "You were a _wicked _girl, Christine. Your poor servants! I feel sorry for them already."

Of course, he was just joking about that - he didn't feel sorry for them at all. Let them rot there ; he hoped that the precious snakes he had come to know as friends had scared them half to death. The two of them continued walking quietly, Christine gazing down at the scenery, Tom at the dark sky in all it's brilliance. They were two of a kind, Ms. Christine McCallion and Tom Riddle ; so alike yet so different that it was eccentric to think about it in such away. Then again, a lot of the things in the wizarding world made little or no sense at all, so one wasn't to question the way the world worked, because it just _was._

"Moon lilies." Tom's voice came from her side as he gently pressured her to stop. Christine looked at him, and then down to the item he was pointing at. "Moon-Lilies. They are very rare and difficult, seeing as how they bloom by a full moon and only a full moon. The moon sustains them and then, sadly enough, they slowly wither without it's light."

He plucked just one and held it up to eye-level. The silvery white petals seemed to be spun of silk and the green steam of the flower glittered like a emerald. He quickly conjured a rectangular glass box ( which was rather advanced magic, mind you ) around the flower he had plucked from the ground, and slowly he'd hand it to her. Why did the glass box glow with a faint golden light? Her pale fingers seemed to block out that light when she touched the box, and held it up so that she could look upon the pretty flower in fascination.

"Don't take it out of it's box. It'll _die_ if you do. If you keep it inside, it'll live as long as you do. Call it a gift for walking with me." He placed his wand back into the inside-pocket of his robes and smiled. It was hard to believe he'd turn into such a monster. " Listen, Christine. It was _wrong _of me to bring up the idea of you discussing your dreams. _Dreams _can be very frightening, terrible to recount. If I told you half of the things I see in my dreams, you'd probably run from me screaming. I want to be **accepted** by you, that is all. I don't have many friends, not really; and to have you as one of those few would make me very happy. I've admired you for years," He lead her on down through the grounds, "I should be ashamed of myself; a Prefect out on the grounds after curfew. Strange, I don't feel any shame at all. Christine, tell me: What do you think of Hogwarts? Do you love this castle?"

Was it just him, or was there a dreamy look in those gray hues when she began to speak of the castle that looked down on them like a hawk from above, celestial turrets and towers, well, _towering_ above them. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...she could still remember the first day she'd gotten her letter.

It had been dark, she recalled, and she'd been standing out on the roof and looking up at the full moon as a mere 10 year old girl, when suddenly a dark shape had appeared against the full moon. It had certainly been odd at first, but when she had squinted she had realized it to be an owl. Not just any owl, either - a handsome, tawny owl that landed on her shoulder and immediately stuck out his leg for her to remove the seemingly brand new parchment. When she'd opened that letter, she'd grinned and yelled for the whole neighborhood, despite it being 10:00 at night. Christine smiled just softly, staring off into the distance for a moment before looking up to reach Tom Riddle's eyes.

"Hogwarts," She tasted the name on her tongue as she tilted her head up and gazed at the castle. "Hogwarts is my home, as much as it is yours, away from my so-called mother and father. I love Hogwarts."

_I love Hogwarts._ So did he.

"Hey, Tom," Christine suddenly felt a desire to break the silence between the two of them. He glanced over at her, and there seemed something wild and untamed in those eyes, before she blinked and it was gone, replaced by the warmness of his dark hues. "Do you like Quidditch?"

"_Yes_, I do! Though I have to say: I'm terrible at it. I've never been very skilled on a broom." He chuckled warmly. "I usually just fall off and make a complete fool out of myself. I'm usually at every game; it's a prefect's duty to maintain order in the stands. Of course that's not the only reason I come. I come to the games to see you play. You're perfection in the air, you realize that? It as if you have wings yourself."

Tom would smile in her direction. Did he just admit that? Well, it was true. He did enjoy watching her play, much to the confusion of his **followers.** He was softened, at times different, when he spoke of Christine and how she moved like a swan upon the breast of the air. The raging anger within was cooled and he might've been any other boy, excited and admiring of a young lady.

" I'm yourbiggest fan." He grinned and walked along at her side, his fingers cool and gentle against her own. " Perhaps one day when you are a famous Quidditch Star, you'll _still _remember poor Tom Riddle, who admired you so." He guided her back towards the lake once more and he'd lower to sit down at it's edge, his fingers slipping away from her own. "Just be careful. Quidditchis very dangerous. I don't want to see you hurt."

She giggled softly at his confession, a soft, nearly tinkling sound in many a person's opinion - she herself had always been good on a broom, always happy to be free, up in the air and away from all the problems with her parents, away from everything. Quidditch was her own little world away from the world. It was a strange phrase, but it was true for her. But just imagining the Prefect falling off of his broom and landing on the ground with a surprised look on his face brought the soft giggle up into her throat, softened the harsh gray eyes, and totally changed the usually emotionless unless she was angry, that is, and that was a completely different story mask that she wore. That was the closest to a laugh anybody got her to, really. She wasn't one who thought everything was all that funny. Except when Lucius tripped. That was funny.

She seated herself beside him at the lake's edge, knees pulled to her chest, looking down at him calmly. Well, this was a budding friendship, but she did feel as if she could trust him, for now. She was still on guard, though - still edgy, still alert - that was just the way Christine McCallion was. She was wild and untamable, like one of those mustangs that you see running through the grass at top speed. It seemed the minutes passed quickly, too quickly for her own sake, and they were to be heading back in - the conversation was rather normal, if she could say herself - talking about Myrtle, Quidditch, the stars, the reason why they existed - everything that could come to mind, and once the hour had ended, she was truly...well, spent. She wasn't much of a talker, so that long session just wore her out, and just as she was nodding off, Tom had realized it was time for the both of them to return to the castle.

"Christine?" What wasthis? Was she _asleep_? Head turned, so that his chin was level with his shoulder and sable eyes flickered down to rest upon her face. The gray eyes were slowly fluttering closed and her body looked as if it might fall backwards, to rest on the grass, at any moment. Tom had kept her out too late, hadn't he? "Christine? I must apologize. I've kept you out too late. You're about to fall asleep? Yes. I think I've lost you."

He rose to his feet, and stooped, sliding his arms under her legs and upper back and picking her up. Christine didn't weigh much - he was surprised that someone could be this light ; Christine did look like she had some substance to her, despite her moderately small form. Tom looked down at her half asleep form, hefting her up one more time and beginning to walk back to the castle. Christine was too groggy to complain, or to even move at the moment, so she kept her eyes on the silky petals of the moon lily case she held comfortably in her hands. She'd gazed at it while they'd been talking, and Tom had secretly smiled. He'd see her safely back to the Slytherin Common Room, carrying her through the halls, watching her as she contentedly ran her fingers down the glass case in her hand. Christine was standing again, at the top of the stairs, looking down at him.

"Sleep _well,_ Christine. I enjoyed our walk; I hope you did as well."

A smile, and Tom Riddle was gone, replaced only by the glow of the fireplace and the gentle pound of rain beginning outside the window.

* * *

**AN:** Whee, this is my FAVORITE chapter so far. It's been a blast to write, anyways. ( _shrug_ ) Random romance is always fun, riiiiiighhht? ( _grin_ ) Tom seems kinda creepy and a little OOC. I'm sorry! ( _claps hands together and begs for your forgivance_ ) I needed him to seem as if he like, cared for a moment!

**Tom:** You know, Christine DIDN'T have any weight to her. ( _changes subject _)

**Me**: I know, isn't that weird?

**Tom**: Maybe it's because i'm just that good. ( _flex _)

**Voldemort**: ...Don't get too far ahead of yourself, now.

**Me**: See you in chapter six! ( _wave _)


End file.
